a little something extra

a little something extra

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Blast from the Past


An old Navy buddy scanned and sent Hubby some photos...

here's one of the man I married:
Scott is the handsome young buck on the left.

30 years later, he still looks the same to me!
OK, maybe not exactly the same--the coif has disappeared and the Fred the parrot has faded, but other than that...well, my heart still beats faster when I'm on the way home.



Sunday, April 17, 2011

Horticulture at Work


Whew, it's been a while.

First off, thank you for all your comments on my last post.  I'm honored to "know" so many intelligent and independent women.  I thoroughly enjoyed reading all your different points of view.  (Or should that be "point of views"?)  

So today I had to be at work at 3 AM, to cover the last half of grave shift and then work mine.  I knew I'd be stir crazy by noon (too right!) so I grabbed my camera on the way out the door and took a break after lunch to shoot the flowers on the grounds at work.

et voila! 

Prickly Pear cactus with Brittlebush 

The obligatory cactus flower!
I need a better macro...

Brittlebush blooms and Indigo flowers

A double blossom!

Indigo flowers.

Globe Mallow.
This flower is very tiny, only about a half inch across.

Desert Willow.

Desert Willow, the sneezy version!

Pink Penstemmon.

Tomorrow it's back to work again at 3 AM, we shall see how creative I feel by the evening!



Monday, April 4, 2011

Vanity, thy Name is not Trish


I want to talk about how we women are pushed into thinking we're not that great, after all.

I know what you're thinking--"I'm great, and nobody pushes ME around!"  But think about it.  How much time and money do women spend on having their hair cut, styled and colored?   Make-up, the stuff that inevitably gives you zits and maybe cause you to scrutinize your wrinkles a little more than what's healthy--why do we wear it?  Whe do we starve ourselves, work out insanely, and have plastic surgery?


I know that our species is prgrammed to decorate itself.  I get that.  That's what clothes are for.
I also realize that we're all competative, except for maybe the Daili Lama.  So I understand the need to stand out and be better.  But who defines "better"?  Companies that want to sell you stuff.  Often useless, sometimes dangerous, purse draining products.  And we women buy it--their stuff, along with the dream of an ultimate look, body, whatever. 

Ladies, I bought into the dream for years.  I did the hair, the nails, the make up, the starving.  In college at school I barely ate--this was the 80's and waif thin was the way to go.  How was I gonna look good if, god forbid, I weighed over 100 pounds and had bad hair and no makup and nude nails?  All the ads in magazines and on TV said I had to be a certain way to be "right".  Ads that very subtly said that if I didn't look a particular way, there was something fundamentally wrong with me.  If I got a wrinkle or forgot to tweeze my brows, it was a character fault.  If I graduated from a size 3 into a size 8 I was a hedonistic overeating slob.  A person who didn't strive to be perfect.

I don't do perfect.  I do happy.  And I work very hard on happy, every single day. 

My whole life I've been clinically depressed and anxious.  I've had a few tumbles into the abyss, one of which came perilously close to a trip to a room where the doors lock only on the outside.  And a lot of it, I see now, is my own damn fault.  First and foremost is simply being stubborn and not wanting to admit I need medication.  I'm past that.  Secondly, and more insiduously is the constant drone in the background:  "You could be Better!  You could be Prettier!  You could Improve Yourself!" the soul sucking sussuration of society.  Nowadays, I refuse to listen, and strangely enough, I have my job to thank for that.

 Work, along with providing a living, has pared me down and weaned me from self ornementation.  Some of my shedding has been practical; i.e. there's no good reason to get all dolled up for a graveyard shift.  I wear a hard hat a lot...practical ponytail to the rescue.  No fancy nails cause I get dirty sometimes.  Oh, and I wear a uniform, so no clothes worries.  Plus, I work with people who value me for my skills, not skillful make up.  After work?  Hubby loves me as I am, no matter what I look like.  And so do I.

I would LOVE to hear your thoughts...please leave me a comment!



UPDATE:  Keep the comments coming!  I want to do another related post and I need your input!
Hurrah for friends!